Taken Far Too Literally
by GreyLadyBast
Summary: Mary Sue thought she was safe once she outgrew her teens. Follow as she finds out why fanfic is much better onscreen than in person. Rated for VERY foul language, so be warned.
1. Hungover?

Disclaimer: Oh, do I have to? Does anyone actually think I believe I own any of this? Honestly! Oh, all right, suitable credit to the actual persons where appropriate. Happy now?  
  
Taken Far Too Literally  
  
It was the stench that finally woke her. The smells assailing her nose were NOT the normal post-party odors of stale beer and lingering weed. No, the reek was much, much worse, strong enough to penetrate the drunken stupor and drive her into unwilling consciousness. At least, she thought she was conscious. As she pried her sticky eyes open and blearily took in her surroundings, she wasn't so sure.  
  
She was lying on stony ground in what looked for all the world like a Ridley Scott version of "The Wasteland". Desolation lay all around, broken rocks, parched ground, dark sky, the works. The place bore a suspicious resemblance to nuclear winter horror pictures.  
  
"If I have to dream T.S. Elliot, why can't it be Jellicle Cats?" she moaned. As she sat up, it occurred to her that the place had a solidity that dreams normally lacked. So she pinched herself in the age old manner of determining wakefulness. Not only did it hurt like hell, the damned pinch left a nasty bruise. So much for that theory.  
  
"Maybe I'm still buzzed?" was her next logical explanation. However, the aches and pains as she moved, the pounding in her head and the nasty taste in her dry mouth all screamed "hangover". If she was hungover, she couldn't still be buzzed. Theory Number Two shot all to hell.  
  
"So, not buzzed, not dreaming, then what?" she asked the broken rocks. Predictably enough, the rocks had no helpful suggestions. She forced her brain through the fog of last night's excess, thinking hard. No ideas presented themselves. She stood up. Maybe a better look around would provide some clues. The place was definitely the proverbial hell-hole, as ugly as it was smelly. A huge solitary volcano could be seen smoking in the distance.  
  
"Oh no," she gasped as a horrible thought occurred to her. "No no no no no no no no no no!" She shook her head in denial. "This can NOT be happening. I am way too old for this shit. I thought I was safe from this once I passed my teens!" She sat back down, holding her head in despair. "I should have known better than to see that damned movie so many times! Then reread the books, listen to the radio drama, and I was even stupid enough to get into the fanfic! I'm screwed! If I ever get out of this, I am going to kill my mother for naming me Mary Sue!"  
  
*Well, that's your lot. Cheesy take on the classic Mary Sue. Whaddya think...waste of space or halfway decent? Future chapters depend on interest or lack thereof, so please R/R. Flames welcome only if they're excessively vulgar and heavy on obscenities. 


	2. Denial's a River in Egypt

Disclaimer: yeah ,yeah, you all know the routine. I own nothing and no one.  
  
Denial's a River in Egypt  
  
Mary Sue wasted several minutes staring around in shock. Her brain simply refused to accept the reality of her situation, if "reality" was the right word for it. She was inclined to believe "acid flashback" was closer to the truth, but since she'd never done acid, that let that out. Furthermore, this dump was simply too detailed, too cohesive to be drug-induced. Impossible as it was, she was obviously stuck firmly in the middle of that overused fanfic standard, "modern person transported to Middle-Earth". There was nothing to do now but make the best of a bad (and absurd!) situation.  
  
She took a few moments to clear her head (HAH!) and logically assess the situation. Given the ugliness and stench of her surroundings, she had to be in or near Mordor. From what she remembered of the book's descriptions, she was in either Emyn Muil or on the Plain of Gorgoroth. Every fiber in Mary Sue's being hoped for Gorgoroth on the grounds of 1)being nearer the end of the story and therefore closer to home, 2) avoiding the Dead Marshes and3) not having to interact with Gollum. "I just can't deal with that little weasel when I'm hungover!" she thought aloud.  
  
Thinking of her hangover and the accompanying dehydration brought her mind to more practical matters. She had no food, no water and only the vaguest idea where to find some. On the upside, since she'd passed out at the party last night rather than going properly to bed, she was still fully clothed. While cargo pants and a Batman T-shirt might not be the height of Middle-Earth fashion, they were decidedly better than nudity. Mary Sue was even fortunate enough to be wearing her favorite ugly battered "hanging around the house" sweater, so just maybe she could avoid freezing to death once night fell. Becoming a Mordor-cicle was NOT her idea of a good time.  
  
Bending down to tighten her boots, Mary Sue was for the first time glad her friends were a bunch of lazy slobs who left passed-out drunks the way they were, instead of making them comfortable like considerate people. Otherwise, her feet would be shredded in minutes by the stony ground. She knew she'd be doing a lot of walking before she was done, if she truly was stuck in cheesy fanfiction, which sure as hell seemed to be the case. She was certain the only way out of this mess was to find the heroes and perform her Mary Sue-ly duties by saving their sorry asses. "But there is NO WAY I'm falling in love with a hobbit, big blue eyes or not!" she informed the Powers That Be in no uncertain terms. Her only goal was to get this disaster over with ASAP and get the hell home, preferably in time for this afternoon's yoga class. Mary Sue squared her shoulders and set off in the general direction of Mt. Doom, muttering obscenities the entire way.  
  
*Ok, that's Chapter Two. As before, R/R, flame only if it's supremely vulgar and dripping in obscenities. BTW, I promise in the next chapter there will be gasp, ACTUAL TOLKIEN CHARACTERS in this nominally Tolkien fanfic. 


	3. A Call of Nature and a Stroke of Luck

Disclaimer: Still not mine, still Tolkien's. Pop culture references not mine either, nor brand names.  
  
Author's Warning: this chapter deals with something I have always wanted to see addressed in fanfic, but never have.. The title is a hint. Please r/r, I have GOT to know what others think of this insanity.  
  
A Call of Nature and a Stroke of Luck  
  
  
  
Mary Sue had been trudging through hell for a thousand years. Make that ten thousand years. Or an eon. Or an epoch. Or eternity. Or….."Oh hell, I've run out of time spans!" she muttered to herself. She was trying desperately to keep her spirits up, and failing miserably. Nothing was going her way, absolutely nothing at all. "A pox on Tolkien for creating this!" she screamed to the gloomy sky.  
  
She kept walking, same as she'd been doing for the last several hours, no food, no water, nothing but sinkholes to avoid and boulders to maneuver around. To add insult to injury, this entire time last night's pizza and beer had been making their way through her digestive system. Now, nature was calling in a big way.  
  
Mary Sue had done her fair share of partying in the woods, so going outside didn't bother her. What bothered her was that this wasn't the woods. There were no trees anywhere. No trees meant no leaves, and since she hadn't had the option of grabbing niceties like toilet paper before waking to find herself unceremoniously dumped into the worst sort of cheesy fanfic, the lack was a major problem. She did her best to ignore her body's demands, but as time went on, the discomfort grew unbearable.  
  
Finally, the call of nature could not be denied. Squeamishness was simply no longer an option, and Mary Sue was forced to find a suitable place to go. She picked a likely-looking group of boulders, dropped her drawers and reluctantly did her business. Once done, she paused, longing for a leaf, or better yet, some Charmin. In the end, she improvised. While scraping her ass on a rock was neither comfortable nor particularly hygienic, it was better than the alternative. "The next time I have to wind up in fangirl story, PLEASE can't it be Star Wars or Star Trek or something with indoor plumbing???" she cried to the Powers That Be.  
  
The unpleasant necessities of life attended to, Mary Sue yanked her pants into place. They had an odd weight to them, and something bumped her leg as she pulled them up. She reached into the thigh pocket of her cargoes, and pulled out an engraved hip flask, a joke gift from a friend. She had totally forgotten stuffing it into her pocket last night, after a rousing game of Quarters. Opening the flask, Mary Sue discovered-joy of joys!- a pint bottle of Jose Cuervo. It was nearly empty, of course, for Mary Sue always played to lose at Quarters, but when she pulled out the bottle, she found a good shot-and-a-half of tequila still in the bottom. That sure as hell would make this ridiculous situation more bearable!. More importantly, she now had not one, but two containers to carry water in, assuming she ever found any. "If Sam and Frodo can find water in this godforsaken hell-hole, so can I! Here's to Uncle Jose," she told the flask, happily downing the tequila.  
  
Much heartened, Mary Sue put the bottle back in the flask and replaced the whole thing back in her thigh pocket. Then, and only then, it finally occurred to her to check her other pockets. She'd been so busy bitching about the situation, she hadn't done as thorough a job assessing at as she'd first thought. She rolled her eyes in disgust at her own stupidity.  
  
To be fair, there wasn't much aside from the flask. A couple of cough drops, some bottle caps, a nearly full pack of gum, a pen, last week's grocery list, which made her hungry to read, 83 cents, two tubes of Chapstick, and a comb, as well as the gloves she habitually kept in her sweater pocket. "Well, at least I can eat the cough drops, the gum and the Chapstick. And I may be filthy, smelly, starving and dehydrated, but I won't have bad hair," she told the rocks. She'd taken to doing a lot of that lately.  
  
Her treasures repacked, minus a stick of gum currently in her mouth, Mary Sue set off again. She went more slowly this time, keeping ears and eyes open for any sign of water. She knew if she didn't find some soon, she'd die in this miserable pit.  
  
She hunted for a long time, but eventually she heard a teeny, tiny trickle. Tracking the source of the sound was by no means easy. She grew frantic looking for it. Just as she was about to give up and indulge the breakdown she'd been putting off all day, Mary Sue very literally stepped into the puny stream. The thing was more puddle than stream and the water had a rancid taste, like warm, flat Miller Lite, but she drank gratefully nonetheless. Mary Sue had never been a godly woman, in fact that had been a source of contention with her ex-in-laws, but now she firmly believed not only in the existence of Deity, but that He/She/It/They were good, compassionate, and looking out for her. "Score one for Deus Ex Machina," she muttered.  
  
Mary Sue drank till she could drink no more. Then, she filled both the tequila bottle and the flask, and splashed some water on her face. She stood to get her bearings, for all the good that did. Darkness had fallen, and she couldn't see two feet in front of her face. Mary Sue was hopelessly lost.  
  
  
  
*Ok, so I lied, no canon characters in this chapter either. They'll appear soon, Mary Sue is as frustrated by their non-appearance as you are! 


	4. Of Stubbed Toes and Big Blue Eyes

Disclaimer: Don't own nuthin!  
  
Of Stubbed Toes and Big Blue Eyes  
  
  
  
Mary Sue let loose a stream of obscenities that would make a convention of sailors, marines and truck drivers blush. Then she went back and did it again in Russian, and once more in Portuguese, each time growing more vile in her descriptions. She cursed the darkness, she cursed Mordor, she cursed Tolkien, his parents, Houghton-Mifflin, Peter Jackson, his parents, New Line Cinema, Middle-Earth, the rocks, the Ring, the hangover she still wasn't completely over, basically she cursed any and everything even remotely related to this stupid situation. Most of all, however, she cursed the still-missing hobbits. She'd been walking all stinking day, endured indignity, discomfort, and an endless parade of untalkative rocks, all on the theory she was here to help those miserable little bastards with their mission to destroy the Ring. Except said miserable little bastards hadn't had the grace to turn the hell up yet!  
  
"This ISN'T the way this shit is supposed to work, dammit!!" Mary Sue yelled at the ever-faithful rocks. "The heroine is SUPPOSED to save the Fellowship, win the day and get transported home as mysteriously as she arrived! THAT'S how these stupid stories work! Then again, in these stupid stories, Mary Sue is 15, lands in Rivendell and Legolas falls in love with her. I am not 15, this is not Rivendell, and you are most certainly not Legolas!" she screamed, punctuating her tirade with a kick for the poor rock. The rock took no notice, but her toes protested.  
  
"That settles it!" she muttered through gritted teeth once she was finished with the required hop-around-and-swear portion of badly stubbed toes. "I quit. One day here is one too many. I'm just gonna lie down right here, curl up and pass out. With anything like good luck, I'll wake up back in my living room with the cat licking my face."  
  
Darkness had brought cold to Mordor, so she put her sweater back on, tugged on her gloves, sipped a miniscule amount of her precious water, and lay down right where she was. She was so exhausted, she fell immediately asleep.  
  
She was awakened several hours later by someone stepping on her hand. She bellowed, leapt to her feet, grabbed her assailant and slammed him against a rock, all in one move before she was fully awake. Imagine her surprised, once her brain caught up to her body, to see a pair of beautiful blue eyes staring up at her, very big, very haunted and currently very fearful. Even more surprising was something short beating at her hips and arms, shouting "Let him go!"  
  
"Frodo?" Mary Sue asked in wonder. "Sam?"  
  
"You know our names?" Big Blue eyes inquired softly, still in her grip. She nodded stupidly while Sam continued to try and make her drop Frodo. Deep in her heart, she honestly hadn't expected to really meet these two. Despite all her bitching, despite evidence to the contrary, Mary Sue still believed she was dreaming. Now that they had finally turned up, her brain flat-out refused to cope. It finally indulged the long-overdue total shut down. She fainted. 


	5. Hobbits At Last! About @&$#% Time!

Disclaimer: I don't own Frodo. I don't own Sam. They are canon characters and belong to Tolkien. I don't own Mary Sue, either. She's a cliché and belongs to the Cliché Fairy. I DO own a '95 Neon that needs some work, if anyone's a good (and free!) mechanic.  
  
  
  
Hobbits At Last! About @%#%$ Time!!!  
  
  
  
"Careful, Mr. Frodo. You don't know who she is. She could be with the Enemy!"  
  
"She's not."  
  
"But how can you be sure? You don't know that."  
  
"I'm sure. I just know."  
  
Voices. Somebody was talking. Mary Sue heard the words, but they didn't make any sense, so she ignored them. Maybe they'd go away.  
  
It worked, after a fashion. Instead of voices, she became aware of small hands patting her face. She batted feebly at what she thought was her kid, trying to wake her up. She didn't remember that the kid was at his father's for the weekend, and even if he had been home, she wasn't. She was in Mordor, but that tidbit hadn't registered in her mind yet.  
  
The hands patted her cheek more insistently. Now the voice was back, murmuring, "Wake up. You cannot stay here, you must wake up."  
  
"Oh, Mr. Frodo, DO be careful!" the other voice interjected.  
  
Mary Sue wished they would both get lost. She rolled over, muttering "Go 'way. Leamme 'lone. Lemme sleep." As she rolled, she felt hard, stony ground instead of soft, comfortable bedding. Abruptly memory returned. She opened her eyes and sat bolt upright. "Oh Shit!" she exclaimed as she took in her surroundings yet again.  
  
Just as she feared, she was still in Mordor, and it was still just as dreary, smelly and miserable as ever. Only now, there were a couple of hobbits staring down at her, one concerned, yet oddly distracted, the other plainly suspicious. They could only be Frodo Baggins and Sam Gamgee. Mary Sue was damned if they didn't look EXACTLY as they did in the frigging movie!  
  
"Well, it's about time you two showed up!" she snarled as she stood and dusted herself off. "I've been wandering around this shithole all day, looking for you!"  
  
"Looking for us?" Frodo echoed.  
  
Mary Sue gave Frodo a Look. "Why the hell else would I be here? For the ambience?"  
  
Sam pounced on that like a cat on a wounded bird. "You see, Mr. Frodo, she's been searching for us, to capture us, bring us back to Barad Dur and give the Ring to Sauron, I'll warrant!"  
  
Mary Sue turned her Look on Sam. "Dammit, Samwise Gamgee, don't be more of an idiot than you have to! If I'd planned to drag your sorry little hobbit asses to Barad Dur, don't you think I'd've kicked the shit out of you by now?? In case you failed to notice, I'm bigger and meaner than the pair of you. All I'd have to do is crack your stupid heads together and out you go!" she bellowed, sounding frighteningly like Gandalf, though she didn't realize it. "That I didn't when I had the chance ought to clue you in that I'm on the side of the angels, for Chrissake!"  
  
The hobbits didn't understand the slang, but Frodo at least got the gist of the tirade. "Let it go, Sam," he said. "I believe we can trust her."  
  
Sam, for his part, didn't look happy at all, but he did shut up. He merely stood there, arms crossed, and glared.  
  
Mary Sue shot Sam a disgusted look, but dropped the subject. She turned her attention to Frodo. "Where are we, anyway? I've already figured I'm in Mordor, but where exactly in Mordor?" she asked.  
  
"You don't know?" the hobbit asked, incredulous.  
  
She rolled her eyes at him in a 'save me from stupid questions' expression. "If I knew I wouldn't have to ask, would I?!?!?!" she snarled. Stress was making her bitchy.  
  
"We are on the Plateau of Gorgoroth," Frodo replied quietly, overlooking this strange human's irritability. Actually, he was far too weary and burdened with thoughts of the Ring to care about it. Frodo was beyond caring about much of anything by that point.  
  
"That's what I guessed," Mary Sue replied. She'd heard the defeated tone in Frodo's voice but didn't know what to do about it, so she ignored it. For now.  
  
Sam could keep his silence no longer. "How could you not know where you are?" he demanded, his tone belligerent. "How did you get here? What do you want? Who are you, anyway?"  
  
Mary Sue couldn't help but giggle at Sam's barrage of questions. He looked so cute, standing there all indignant and protective of Frodo. She resisted the urge to pick him up and cuddle him. Hell, she wanted to cuddle them both, but she didn't. Instead, she answered Sam's questions as best she could.  
  
"I don't know where I am because I don't know how I got here. All I'm certain of is that I threw a monster party, got blasted, passed out and woke up here. That ugly-ass mountain clued me in that I was probably in Mordor. This dump matches the description in the books."  
  
"Monster? Blasted? Did you hear that, Mr. Frodo? She IS with the Enemy!" Sam exclaimed.  
  
"Dammit Sam, they're just expressions, common where I come from! 'Monster' means big and exciting, and 'blasted' means very very drunk. Jesus H. Christ, stop being so goddamn suspicious!" Mary Sue was beginning to find Sam Gamgee to be a royal pain in the ass.  
  
Sam wasn't about to let things go, not with his master's life in the balance. He opened his mouth to berate Mary Sue, but Frodo stopped him with a gesture.  
  
"Please forgive Sam his suspicions. We are in a dangerous place, on a dangerous mission," he said.  
  
"Yeah, I know," she replied, softening. Something about this hobbit was very soothing, even haunted and troubled as he so obviously was. "I know all about the Ring, and the whole story. Probably more than you do, in fact."  
  
"Then you have us at a disadvantage," Frodo commented. "For you know all about us, yet we do not even know your name, nor where you come from, nor why you're here."  
  
She blushed, just realizing he was right, she was being stupid and inconsiderate. "My name is Mary Sue. I come from a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away." She couldn't help but grin at that, though she knew the joke was lost on the hobbits. "As for why I'm here, I can only guess."  
  
Frodo waited patiently for her to continue, Sam somewhat less so. He still did not trust this outlandish Big Person female. She ignored his glare and focused on Frodo.  
  
"Do you remember when Gandalf told you there were other things in the world besides the will of evil?" she asked. He nodded, not even bothering to wonder how she knew that. "Well, I can only guess one of them sent me to help you. How the hell I'm supposed to accomplish that I haven't the foggiest. I don't think I can get home until the Ring is destroyed, though," Mary Sue sighed.  
  
Frodo thought for a moment. "Then you must come with us to Mt. Doom," he said at last.  
  
Sam was aghast. "Mr. Frodo, no! How do we know we can trust her?" he demanded. Mary Sue glared at him, ready to chew him a new asshole. She was growing very tired of this little prick.  
  
Frodo forestalled a confrontation. "I trust her, Sam," he said simply. "I feel she must be here for a reason, and that taking her with us is the right thing to do. I still have no hope that we will return alive, but with her help, we may at least get there, if not back again." He turned those huge blue eyes up at Mary Sue. "Will you join us? I fear we have few supplies, but we will share what little we have."  
  
Frodo was so cute, like a little lost puppy, that Mary Sue melted at that look. She was damned if she was gonna admit it even to herself, however. "Well, since by the conventions of fanfic that's what I'm here for, yes, I'll join you. Can't say I'm thrilled about the situation, but since I'm stuck here….." she trailed off, shrugging.  
  
"She's not thrilled with the situation?" Sam thought to himself. "I think this is a terrible idea, maybe worse than relying on Gollum, and look where that got us!" Sam didn't speak aloud, recognizing the set expression on his master's face. He contented himself with a sour look.  
  
"As far as supplies go," Mary Sue continued, "I don't have any food, but I have a couple containers of water. It will work out better if we all chip in. Oh, and I have some gum, too, if you want it." It should have occurred to her that hobbits wouldn't know what gum is, but it didn't.  
  
She pulled out her tequila bottle, still mostly full of water. She took a sip to show it wasn't poisoned, throwing a glance at Sam as she did. She handed the bottle to Frodo. "Drink up. You look like you need it," she said.  
  
Frodo drank and handed the bottle to Sam. He sniffed, shrugged, and sipped. The water was foul, obviously from Mordor, but not poison. He handed back to Mary Sue with a sheepish smile.  
  
"Well," she said, replacing the bottle in her thigh pocket. "Shall we get this show on the road, then? I'd like to get this over and done with ASAP. I have a parent-teacher conference tomorrow. If I don't show up, my kid and my ex will both have kittens!" She began walking off toward Mt. Doom.  
  
Frodo and Sam exchanged confused looks. "She talks very strangely, Mr. Frodo," Sam commented.  
  
"That she does," Frodo replied. "Still, she is right, we must move on. We have a long way to go yet." Frodo sounded hopeless and defeated, but determined to complete his task. Sam looked at him with devoted smile. The two hobbits ran to catch up to Mary Sue, and the three of them continued on to Mt. Doom.  
  
  
  
*Well, the hobbits FINALLY graced us with their appearance. I hope I didn't screw up their characterization too badly. 


	6. How to Avoid Screwing Up the Canon

Disclaimer—NO! I AM NOT writing another disclaimer. Anyone who thinks I believe I own any of Tolkien's work should be boiled in his own pudding and buried with a stake of holly thru his heart……..oh, wait, that's Scrooge……..still, the sentiment stands!! I don't wanna and you can't make me! So there! Nyah!  
  
  
  
How to Avoid Screwing Up the Canon  
  
  
  
As Mary Sue led the hobbits towards Mt. Doom, some very large, very ugly doubts began to grow in her mind. For one thing, it struck her as vaguely obscene to be leading the hobbits, instead of following them. After all, they were the canon characters. She was just a trumped-up underemployed single mom with fangirl tendencies. Just because she indulged the fantasies in the privacy of her imagination didn't mean she wanted to LIVE them. Hell, she didn't even write her own fanfic, just read and sneered at everyone else's. She thought the slash very interesting, when it wasn't stomach-turning, the angst a good way to vent frustration in a "misery loves company" sort of way, the parodies mildly amusing as a rule, and some of the "fill-in-the-gaps" work was actually good. But she loathed the self-insertion fic with a mindless fury, and the teenybopper crap she shared her name with was even worse. Most of that was positively unreadable, nevermind something she wanted to be stuck in. Yet here she was, hip-deep in a nauseating combo of the worst fanfic had to offer. If this kept up, she'd be in danger of outshining the hobbits. Once that happened, Mary Sue was convinced her soul would be sucked into Crap Fanfic Land and lost forever.  
  
Still, she didn't seem to have a whole helluva lot of choice in the matter. She looked over her shoulder at the hobbits trailing behind her. Sam was so sturdy and resolute, Frodo nearly bent in half by the weight of the Ring. She wondered how the hell they'd ever make it all the way to Doom without her.  
  
The sheer arrogance of that thought brought her up short. "Good God!" she muttered to a nearby rock (the rocks of Gorgoroth were rapidly becoming her best friends and confidantes) "I really AM turning into a Mary Sue! Shoot me now!"  
  
"Pardon?" Sam asked. Mary Sue looked at him, startled. In her musings, she had forgotten the hobbits might hear her. Frodo was too deep in his personal struggle with the Ring to listen to her, but Sam's sharp ears caught everything she said. Dammit, this was going to be harder than she thought.  
  
"Nothing," she replied. Sam looked doubtful, but didn't pursue it. "I think we should stop and rest for a bit,' Mary Sue said, changing the subject. "Frodo looks like hell, you don't look any better and I need something more substantial than Mordor water in my stomach before I pass out."  
  
Sam was still suspicious of Mary Sue, but he did agree that Frodo, at least, needed a rest. There was no way he was going to admit his own weakness to this stranger.  
  
Frodo simply stopped when the others did, flopping down onto the ground without comment. He seemed to sag into himself, sitting there hunched up with his head on his knees. Mary Sue's heart went out to him. He was even more pathetic that Tolkien had described.  
  
Sam was busy breaking out the lembas. There was precious little left, and dividing it among three rather than two would not stretch it any. Particularly when the third was a Big Person. Still, his master had said share, and share he would. That didn't mean he had to like it, though.  
  
He broke one of their few remaining wafers in half, put half back and broke the other in thirds, one bigger than the other. He gave the bigger piece to Frodo, a smaller to Mary Sue, and put the last piece away. He could do without for a bit longer.  
  
While Sam was seeing to the food, Mary Sue got out the water. Her Jose Cuervo bottle was a bit more than half full, and she still had the full flask, but she was as worried about water as Sam was about food. She knew damn well there was no water on Gorgoroth, or Mt. Doom either. She didn't trust the plot hole or Deus Ex Machina or stroke of luck that brought her the first tiny puddle to repeat itself. So she took the tiniest possible sip, barely wetting her mouth, then passed the bottle on to Sam. "Go easy with it," she whispered as she took her portion of lembas.  
  
Sam shot her a look that plainly conveyed his thoughts—"How stupid do you think I am?"—but once again held his tongue. Though there was still no love lost between Sam and Mary Sue, they had an unspoken agreement to keep open hostilities to a minimum, for Frodo's sake.  
  
Eventually, Mary Sue settled down to chow on her miniscule morsel. She glanced at Frodo, who now nibbled forlornly at his food. She then did something that began to lessen Sam's dislike of her. She got up, touched Frodo gently and softly said his name. Once she had his attention, she handed him her tiny piece of lembas. "You need this more than I do. You're the hero of this story, not me. I'm just along for the ride."  
  
"I don't feel much like a hero," Frodo muttered, his first words in hours.  
  
"You are. Trust me on this one. I know more about it than you do, and you're the hero," she reassured. Something about this hobbit brought out the maternal in Mary Sue. She suspected it was the dark hair and big blue eyes that made him look so much like her son.  
  
A pang of homesickness crossed her heart as she thought of her Little Monster. She had to think of something else before she started crying in front of the hobbits. There was NO WAY that was going to happen. Not in this life!  
  
The first thing to come to mind was her earlier doubt. Something had to be done about that, before she screwed up the plot continuum by more than her mere presence. Hell, that alone could be bad enough, if word got around!  
  
"Actually, that reminds me of something I wanted to discuss with you both," Mary Sue began. "When you two get back from all this…."  
  
"IF we get back," Frodo interrupted gloomily.  
  
"WHEN you get back," she continued, shooting him one of her Looks. Honestly, Frodo's tortured pessimism was heartbreaking and dramatic on the page, hell, it was heartbreaking and dramatic in person, but it got damned annoying, damned fast. "It's very important that you don't mention me. Not to your friends, not to Gandalf, not to your kids 20 years from now, not to anybody, ever. I was never here. Anything I do, someone else gets credit for. I cannot emphasize enough how important this is!" she said.  
  
"Why?" Sam wanted to know. Mary Sue's giving Frodo her food may have softened his antipathy toward her a little, but that didn't mean he was ready to give her the keys to the cupboard, so to speak.  
  
"Because," Mary Sue started. Then she paused. If there was one thing years as a Dr. Who and Star Trek fan had taught her, it was Never Give Out Too Much Information. Tolkien wasn't her only fangirl fixation, just the current favorite.  
  
The hobbits looked up at her expectantly. She honestly had no clue what to say. She couldn't tell them the truth, so she fell back on that age-old Mom Standard. "Because I said so!"  
  
Neither hobbit looked happy with that. Sam certainly wasn't buying it. Even Frodo, normally so wrapped up in his own misery, looked rebellious. More was needed.  
  
"Look," Mary Sue said, relenting a little. "It's too complicated to explain right now. Let's just say that I know more about this shit than you do, and trust me, I'm not mentioned anywhere by anyone. So when you tell your story, leave Mary Sue out of it!" She glared down at the hobbits until they both nodded.  
  
"If that's the way you truly want it," Sam said slowly. He wasn't sure if her refusal to take any credit was noble or suspicious. He decided to reserve judgment until he saw how things played out.  
  
"That's the way I want it," she replied firmly. Since the matter seemed settled, she stood and dusted herself off. "What say we get our asses in gear? We still have a ways to go," she said, looking off toward Mt. Doom.  
  
They had made good progress that day. The mountain was much larger now. Fumes from it stung their eyes and lungs. The gloom was omnipresent, and the stink worse than ever. Little tremors ran under their feet, annoying Mary Sue and hurting the hobbits. Nobody was looking forward to going any farther, but they must before night fell and they had to sleep a little.  
  
Wearily the hobbits got up. Frodo was stiff and slow, not even straightening all the way. Sam was in better shape, but still hurting. Mary Sue just felt like shit on a stick, and looked the part as well.  
  
She passed around the water one more time. Then she took a stick of gum for herself, and forced one on each of the hobbits. "Chew it, it'll keep your mouth moist for a while," she instructed. Damn, these little bastards really DID bring out the maternal in her!  
  
Sam looked dubious, but put the gum in his mouth anyway. As he chewed, he smiled in surprise. "It's sweet!" he exclaimed.  
  
Mary Sue grinned back. "See, Sam? I'm not so bad after all," she joked. Sam didn't reply.  
  
Frodo mechanically put the gum in his mouth and chewed. He didn't say anything but Mary Sue thought he looked just a tiny bit less hopeless. It was probably her imagination.  
  
"Be sure and keep chewing that until it loses its flavor, then spit it out," she said.  
  
Sam looked up with a guilty start. Mary Sue laughed, knowing he'd swallowed it. She gave him another piece. "Don't worry, it won't hurt you to swallow it, that's just not the way it's done. Though on second thought, a lump of gum in your stomach may fool it into thinking there's food in there, so go ahead and swallow once the flavor's gone. But chew until then!" God, teaching hobbits how the wrong way to chew gum! How much more absurd could this get?  
  
"You ready?" she asked. Sam nodded. Frodo looked distantly at the mountain, fiddling with the Ring. Mary Sue sighed. She really wished Frodo would snap out of it and smile just little, but she wasn't in that part of the story. Since there was no helping it, she bowed to the inevitable and started off. Sam trailed her and Frodo trailed Sam. Mary Sue wasn't any happier about leading now than she was before, but there was nothing she could do about it. She only hoped that at the end of all this, the canon wasn't TOO screwed up. 


	7. Murphy's Law is Alive and Well in Mordor

Disclaimer: a blank look followed by eyes narrowed in suspicion What, you mean I'm NOT getting paid for this? Damn that Mouth of Sauron, he told me all rights would be granted to me if I………no, you don't need to know that. Let's just say he lied, and I still don't own anything. Phooey!  
  
Murphy's Law is Alive and Well in Mordor  
  
  
  
The hobbits and their unlikely human companion walked well into the night. They paused seldom, and then only for brief sips of water. An urgency was on them, a sense of time running out. The hobbits didn't know where it came from, but Mary Sue did. She'd read the books repeatedly. She knew damn well Frodo was succumbing to the corruption of the Ring. Hell, she could see it happening in his face and posture. The poor thing was drawn and haggard, bent double with the weight of the damn Ring. He had huge dark circles under his eyes. Mary Sue swore the lines on his face grew deeper hourly. It broke her heart.  
  
Nor was she the only one to see it. Sam positively hovered over his master, supporting him when he stumbled, which was often. The worry lines in Sam's face were nearly as deep as the tension lines in Frodo's. Mary Sue was anxious about both of them, but there was jack shit she could do for them. It bothered her. This whole situation bothered her.  
  
She'd briefly considered offering to lug the Ring for Frodo, just for a little while. Thankfully, she came to her senses and kept her mouth shut. She could just picture the scene in her imagination:  
  
"Jesus, Frodo, you look like shit. Want me to carry that thing for you a bit? Give you a break?" she'd offer.  
  
"NO! Thief! You can't have it! It's MINE," Frodo would scream.  
  
Then Mary Sue's frayed temper would snap, she'd slam Frodo up against one of her handy-dandy rocks and hiss at him "Dammit, Baggins! I don't put up with attitude from my kid, nevermind a hairy-footed half-pint like you! I don't care how evil the Ring is or how tortured it makes you, if you EVER talk to me like that again I will pop your head like a zit!!"  
  
Then Sam would hamstring her for manhandling his master, and that would suck. So Mary Sue's seldom-used better judgment prevailed and she kept her idiot offer to herself. Besides, wouldn't that just be the height of hubris to think she could be Ringbearer instead of the main character? She liked to think she wasn't THAT far gone in Mary Sue-dom. Yet.  
  
As she daydreamed about the catastrophe that couldn't happen, she wasn't paying attention to any that could. So when the sinkhole opened under her feet, she obediently fell right in. She tumbled ass-over- teakettle, hitting every rock in creation on the way down. She landed with a thud, a pop, a crack and a scream.  
  
"Are you all right?" Sam called from the top of the sinkhole. He kept Frodo back from the edge, proving Sam was still the brains of this operation. Mary Sue certainly wasn't!  
  
"No, I'm not fucking all right!!" she screamed, not recognizing Sam's brains-of-the-operation status. She was in massive amounts of pain, stuck at the bottom of a sinkhole in Gorgoroth and this idiot was asking if she's all right??? She would have cheerfully throttled Sam if only she could reach him.  
  
"What's wrong?" Frodo asked softly.  
  
Mary Sue was astonished to hear his voice. He hadn't strung two words together since their last real stop. She managed to pull herself together long enough to answer his question.  
  
"Feels like my hip dislocated," she hissed thru gritted teeth. "And I'm soaked through. I think the water bottle broke."  
  
"Can you climb out?" Sam wanted to know.  
  
Mary Sue just managed to bite back a snide comment. "Not without a rope,' she said instead. "Even then, I'm not sure I can manage," she continued, grunting in pain between her words.  
  
Sam cursed himself for a ninnyhammer. He got out their length of elvish rope, one of the few things he'd kept after abandoning his gear shortly before meeting Mary Sue. He tied one end around a convenient rock (Sam was beginning to see what Mary Sue meant when she'd commented that the rocks of Gorgoroth were her new best friends) and lowered the other end down to the fallen human. Frodo, meanwhile, had fallen to his hands and knees, giving in to his extreme weariness.  
  
"What the hell is going on up there?" Mary Sue bellowed as Sam worked. She'd never handled pain well, though she dislocated that bad hip on a semi-regular basis. The deprivation of the last couple of days coupled with the Dali-esque quality of the whole thing made her low tolerance for pain even lower. She was hurt, tired, hungry, bitchy and homesick, and she took it out on poor Sam. Mary Sue could be a real asshole at times.  
  
Just as she was bitching, the rope came flying down and smacked her on the nose. Mary Sue let off an unprintable oath that the hobbits thankfully didn't understand. She grabbed the rope and tried to haul herself up. Problem was, yoga classes aside, her upper body strength was that of a modern American couch potato. She got nowhere fast.  
  
"Dammit, Sam, this isn't working!" she screamed. Panic was setting in.  
  
"I don't think I'm strong enough to pull you up," Sam pointed out.  
  
"Then get Frodo to help! Just get me the hell out of here!" If she kept screaming like this she could add a sore throat to her list of hurts. On the upside, she still had cough drops if it came to that.  
  
Sam glanced back at Frodo, so pathetic on all fours. "Mr. Frodo is in no condition to help now," he said.  
  
"I don't care WHAT kind of condition Frodo's in! Get me the flying fuck out of here NOW!!" Mary Sue really WAS an asshole sometimes.  
  
Sam was ready to leave this troublesome female where she was. Not care about Mr. Frodo, indeed! He knew she was bad news from the moment he'd set eyes on her.  
  
Just as Sam was about to walk away, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Frodo had pulled himself out of his misery. "I will help," he said quietly.  
  
Though soft, Frodo's voice carried. Mary Sue heard him from the bottom of the sinkhole. "Hell yeah!! You go Frodo! Now get me out of here!!" she hollered.  
  
With much effort, grunting and swearing on Mary Sue's part, they eventually hauled her out. To be fair, she did pull herself hand-over-hand as much as she was able, but the hobbits did most of the work. Actually, Sam did most of the work.  
  
The problems weren't over once she was on solid ground. Her dislocated hip still had to be popped back in, as well as any other damage assessed and dealt with. Things looked likely to get worse before they got better. IF they ever got better. Abruptly, the whole stupid situation just got to Mary Sue. She looked up at the hobbits and began to cry. "I'm sorry…..I don't…..go on….."she babbled.  
  
Frodo and Sam glanced at each other. Both of them had other concerns on their minds, with no energy to spare for Mary Sue's egocentric ramblings. They didn't know what to say, so they said nothing.  
  
After a few minutes, she calmed down, took a deep breath and looked at Sam. "I need your help," she said simply, gesturing to her popped hip.  
  
"What do you want me to do?" he asked.  
  
Mary Sue gulped. This was not going to be fun. "Basically, I need you to pop my hip back in so I can walk again. I can't go anywhere like this."  
  
"How?" Sam wanted to know.  
  
She thought about it. Normally, when she blew her bad hip, the nearest brawny male would pull it back into place and she'd be fine in a few minutes. That obviously was not going to work with 3'6" worth of hobbit doing the pulling. A different approach was needed. Then she remembered Mel Gibson in one of the Lethal Weapon movies. He'd banged his shoulder in on a wall. Maybe if 3'6" worth of hobbit jumped on her at the right angle, the ground could serve in lieu of a wall. It was a crappy solution, but the only one she could think of at the moment. Certainly it was better than lying here in pain!  
  
When she explained her plan, Sam looked doubtful. Frodo had no comment, he'd retreated back into his dark fixation with the Ring. Mary Sue was none too thrilled herself. This was going to hurt like hell, assuming it worked. If not……she didn't even want to think about that.  
  
"Just do it, Sam! I can't be any worse off than I am now," she demanded when he protested the plan.  
  
The logic of that swayed him. Sam clambered up a rock. "What IS it with these rocks?" Mary Sue wondered in a brief aside as she pulled herself into place. Sam jumped, landing square on her hip.  
  
"YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! Jesus, that hurts!" she screamed. It worked, though. At least, she heard her hip pop back into place. She awkwardly hauled herself up, using the rock as a prop. Her leg collapsed when she put her weight on it. Of course.  
  
The hobbits looked on in sympathy as Mary Sue tried again. And again. And one more time. Each time, she couldn't put her full weight on her leg without collapsing. This was not good. She should at least be able to stand by now, if not exactly run a marathon. Crap.  
  
"Oh, screw it!" she finally exclaimed in disgust. "Let's just crash here for the night and set out in the morning. I'm sure things will be better then."  
  
Nobody actually believed that, of course, but it sounded good. Besides, Frodo was in no shape to go on. Sam was not much better. The darkness was so complete they couldn't see three feet in front of their faces anyway. All in all, the three of them were hurtin' units.  
  
Murphy's Law wasn't quite finished with them, however. There was still one nasty surprise left. Everyone already knew the tequila bottle had broken. The water it held was now soaking Mary Sue's pants, mixed with blood from the cuts it so nicely bestowed while breaking. Now, they discovered the cheap-ass vanity flask that held the back-up water had popped open in the fall. There was no water left whatsoever. Frodo, Sam and Mary Sue were screwed. 


	8. A Bad Attitude and Some Unlikely Truth, ...

Disclaimer—Due to technical difficulties within the author's imagination, there will be no witty disclaimer in this installment. This is a recording.  
  
A Bad Attitude and Some Unlikely Truth, but No Hobbit Slash  
  
Mary Sue didn't even bother dipping into her impressive-yet-useless multi-lingual repertoire of swears. She simply hauled her sorry self into a sitting position and sighed. All this Middle-Earth crap was getting her down. Her pants were soaked and torn, chilling her to the bone, and she was pretty certain the soaking was more than just water from the ruined flask and tequila bottle. How humiliating. She was also bruised in places she didn't know could be bruised, and her skin was as torn as her pants. Furthermore, she dearly wanted to know why she couldn't put her weight on her leg, even though the dislocated hip had been popped back in. To add insult to injury, she had a couple of hobbits staring up at her like the current disaster was her fault. Either that or they expected her to have some answers, which would be worse. It was hard to tell with hobbits sometimes.  
  
In any case, Mary Sue was as clueless as clueless got. She was tired, wet, hurt and pissed off to boot, and having those sickeningly cute hobbit faces staring at her was NOT helping her mood any. Stupid hobbits. Why couldn't she have hooked up with Aragorn or Legolas, like the girls in fanfic were supposed to?? Dammit all to hell anyway!  
  
"What are YOU lookin' at?" she snarled at the hobbits. She knew she shouldn't be taking her stress out on them, she just couldn't help herself. After all, they WERE the canon characters. If Tolkien had never written about them, she wouldn't be in this predicament!  
  
Frodo acted like he didn't hear her. In actuality, he was wondering if he'd made a mistake inviting this strange woman on their quest. At the time, his heart had told him it was the right thing to do, but now he was not so sure. She was abrasive, combative and short tempered. She hinted at knowledge of the Ring, but would not say what she truly knew or how she knew it. When she DID speak, Frodo did not understand at least a third of her words. Her tone, and what he did understand, indicated a foul mouth to match her foul temper. No hobbit lass would talk so, nor lady elf, either. While he didn't know many Big People women, he suspected they also were not like this.  
  
In any case, there was nothing to be done about it tonight. Perhaps in the morning a solution would present itself. Frodo didn't actually believe that, but it gave him something to focus on besides the Ring. He settled down to try and sleep.  
  
Sam, who had been convinced from the beginning that Mary Sue was trouble, merely gave her a withering stare. He had so much he wanted to say, he didn't know where to start. So he said nothing, but his expression spoke volumes.  
  
Mary Sue dropped her gaze, embarrassed and disgusted with herself. "Listen, guys, I…" she began. Then she stopped. What the hell could she tell them, really? That she was pissed off because she didn't belong here or want to be here? That she liked her fanfiction much better onscreen than in person? That she came from the future and wanted only to go back? That she knew about them because the story of their quest was a best- selling book and blockbuster movie? Like they'd believe that! Hobbits wouldn't even know what a movie was!  
  
Frodo and Sam looked at her, waiting for her to finish her sentence. Mary Sue looked away, toward Mt. Doom, and muttered "Nevermind."  
  
"No!" Sam surprised himself by saying. "I'll not 'nevermind'! There's something very odd about you and I mean to find out what it is!" He crossed his arms and glared sternly up at Mary Sue.  
  
She had to suppress a giggle. A stern hobbit is a sight to behold, and a stern Samwise Gamgee doubly so. In the face of that Look, the "Never Give Out Too Much Information" theory seemed pointless and inconsiderate. Not to mention counterproductive. Mary Sue was getting the distinct impression that if she didn't cough up some answers soon, she'd wake to find the hobbits long gone. Since Mordor alone was a lot worse than Mordor with hobbits, she had to tell them something. As she couldn't think of anything else, it'd have to be the truth. Sigh.  
  
"You're sure you want to know?" she asked. Frodo and Sam nodded. "You're not going to believe me," she warned.  
  
"You won't know that until you tell us," Frodo commented.  
  
"Good point," Mary Sue conceded. She took a deep breath. "I'm not sure where to start…"  
  
"At the beginning?" Frodo interrupted impishly.  
  
Mary Sue mock-glared at him. "Watch it, Baggins, you almost smiled there. And that'll just ruin your image."  
  
"My image?" Frodo looked confused.  
  
"Nevermind," she replied. Sam glared at her. She held up her hands defensively. "All right, all right, I'm telling, I'm telling! Don't kill me!"  
  
Sam didn't even grace that with a reply. They just looked at her with those expectant hobbit expressions of theirs. Mary Sue sighed. The little bastards really were just too damn cute!  
  
She took out her pack of gum and offered it around as she organized her thoughts. It took some time, as neither thinking nor organization were among Mary Sue's favorite things. She tended to avoid both by judicious application of drugs both legal and otherwise. Here and now, that wasn't an option. Finally she spoke.  
  
"It's a little hard to explain where I come from. It's either very, very, very far in the future or another world entirely. Doesn't really matter which, because either way I'm not from Middle-Earth. And don't ask me how I got here because I honestly don't know. I really did just pass out drunk at a party and wake up here. Everything I told you is true, I just didn't tell you everything," she started.  
  
"So tell us everything now," Sam interrupted.  
  
Mary Sue gave Sam her best Death Glare. "I'm trying to! IF I may continue??" Sam nodded meekly.  
  
"In my world, there was an author named J.R.R. Tolkien. He wrote a book called The Hobbit, which is about your uncle Bilbo's adventure with those dwarves and the dragon Smaug. He very briefly touched on Gollum and the finding of the Ring. Now, this book was a huge hit…"  
  
"Hit?" Frodo interrupted. Mary Sue turned the Death Glare on him.  
  
" A hit is something that's excessively popular. And if I'm going to have to explain every word I use that you don't get, we'll be here until Christmas! Just figure shit out from context and let me finish the goddamned story, willya??" Simply because Mary Sue decided to tell the truth didn't mean her attitude was improved any.  
  
The hobbits nodded again, and she went on. "The popularity of The Hobbit lead to the writing of a sequel. The Lord of the Rings, which went on to become one of the most beloved books of the century. I myself have read it upwards of a dozen times. The Lord of the Rings tells all about the One Ring and the quest to destroy it. You're both mentioned directly by name. So's the rest of the Fellowship and everyone else remotely connected to the story. Everything that has happened to the whole bunch of you is in that book, descriptions, actions, feelings, choices, consequences, the works. Eventually, the book was made into a movie (Do NOT ask what a movie is, dammit!), and that spawned a host of what's called fanfiction. That's when people who like the book and/or movie write stories about the characters, meaning you. Now, one of the main themes in fanfiction is a truly vile thing called self-insertion. It's when someone from my world winds up mysteriously in yours, which is what we have here. So you see, I know all about you because I've read the book and seen the movie. Repeatedly."  
  
Sam looked stunned at the idea that his thought of being part of a beloved story actually turned out to be true. Frodo was becoming uncharacteristically excited.  
  
"So you know what has happened to the others? You know how to quest will end?" he asked.  
  
Uh-oh. Mary Sue could see where this was going. Dammit, she KNEW she should have kept her big mouth shut!  
  
She nodded very slowly. "Yeah, I do," she admitted at last. Well, what the hell else could she do, really?  
  
Frodo opened his mouth to ask the Dread Question, but Mary Sue interrupted him. "Don't even ask me to tell you, hobbit, because I can't."  
  
Frodo's expression fell so dramatically, she nearly spilled the beans then and there. She was SUCH a sucker for big blue eyes, especially on a cute, tortured hobbit who looked a lot like her son. Fortunately for the canon, her seldom-used better judgment was getting a workout lately, and prevented her from blabbing. She kept quiet.  
  
Sam, however, didn't. In the face of this knew knowledge, and his master's obvious disappointment, he simply had to speak up. "Can't tell us? Or won't?" he challenged.  
  
"Both," Mary Sue said firmly. "Can't in good conscience screw up the story by telling you and won't for the same reason. You two don't know what's going on for a reason and you're going to stay that way!! I am NOT willing to take away your choices and free will just because I've read the stinking book!"  
  
"Not even if it will give Mr. Frodo hope?" Sam asked quietly, looking in concern at his master.  
  
Ouch. That hurt. Lots. Mary Sue dealt with it they way she dealt with all emotional pain. She got pissy. "Listen, Gamgee, it's bad enough I'm here in the first place, fucking up the story with my mere presence! Why do you think I want you two to keep your mouths shut about that when you get back? Don't you think I'd LIKE to be a heroine, instead of who and what I really am?? Did it ever occur to you that this is the most excitement I've ever had in my life?? That meeting you two is very literally a dream come true?? I'd LOVE to save the day with my magical knowledge, but I won't because I REFUSE to fuck up the story any more than I absolutely have to!"  
  
Frodo nodded dejectedly, and went back to his Ring-induced depression. Sam looked argumentative, but Mary Sue was having none of that. She was in full-out Mom Lecture Mode, and she was on a roll. "Don't even try to out-stubborn me, Samwise Gamgee, because it won't work. I'll help if I can (which I doubt since my being here seems completely pointless), but I am NOT telling you what happens! Period. You don't like it? Tough! Deal with it!" she crossed her arms, leaned back against a rock and looked stubborn.  
  
Then she noticed the look on Frodo's face and softened just a little. She truly was a sucker for that hobbit. She made her way over to him, took his face in her hands and gently tilted it up so he had to look at her. Sam growled but stayed put.  
  
"I'm really sorry, Frodo, but you have to deal with this shit in your own way, based on your own knowledge. It's just one of those things, you know, like you and only you having to be Ringbearer. Nobody can do this for you, not Sam, not Gandalf and certainly not me. Sucks, I know, but that's life." Mary Sue felt a twinge of déjà vu. She had given a similar lecture to her kid, not all that long ago. Damned hobbits really did bring out the maternal in her.  
  
Right now the maternal in her, as well as the rest of her, was utterly exhausted. She yawned. The night was already well advanced when were forced to stop, and the discussion hadn't made it any younger. "Let's get some sleep, huh, guys? We have a lot of walking to do tomorrow." She didn't want to think that she might not be ABLE to walk tomorrow. Time to pull a Scarlet O'Hara and worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.  
  
Frodo sighed and lay down, shivering. Mary Sue, giant sucker that she was, lay down next to him and wrapped her arms around him, spoon-style. Just for warmth, of course. The excuse to cuddle the most adorable hobbit in existence had nothing whatsoever to do with it. Or so she lied to herself.  
  
Sam cuddled up to Frodo on his other side. With Sam's cloak spread over them both and Mary Sue's big ugly-ass sweater stretched out over him, Frodo was nice and warm.  
  
Mary Sue watched Sam snuggle closer to Frodo. A horrible thought occurred to her. She just had to say something. "I know this is cozy and all, but please, no hobbit slash!! My heart couldn't stand it."  
  
Frodo and Sam exchanged puzzled glances. Frodo said it. "Slash?"  
  
"Me and my big mouth," she complained. Now she had no choice but to give the hobbits as quick an explanation of slash fiction as possible. NOT an easy task.  
  
Two pair of hobbit eyes grew wide with disbelief as she talked. "But that's…….it's……but I love Rosie Cotton!" Sam finally cried.  
  
"I know, I know. I don't make up the stuff, I just see it. Be glad you're not Aragorn and Legolas!" she replied.  
  
"ARAGORN AND LEGOLAS?!?!?!?!" Frodo exclaimed, astonished. "But Arwen…"  
  
"I know, I know!! Just let it go, willya? Get some sleep," she instructed.  
  
"People from your world are odd indeed," Frodo observed.  
  
"Short stuff, you have NO idea!" Mary Sue replied. Eventually, they all fell asleep. 


	9. It's Been Surreal

Disclaimer—this appalling piece of sludge was dredged from the deranged mind of the author. Tolkien bears no responsibility whatsoever, beyond having inconsiderately gone and created a world I just can't pry myself out of. All the good stuff is the Master's, all the crap is mine.  
  
A/N-- Special thanks to my Guest Stars. You know who you are, and I don't want to spoil the surprise here. I've enjoyed writing this piece, repetitiveness and all (Thank you AEMI, for pointing out that flaw in my writing. This work is a lost cause, but I've tried to improve on that in other stories). I won't even beg for reviews this time, aren't I nice? Now, onto the story….  
  
  
  
It's Been Surreal  
  
  
  
"Dammit, kid, stop kicking me!" Mary Sue snarled without opening her eyes. For one brief, glorious moment, she thought she was home in bed with her son pestering her to get up and go watch cartoons with him. Then painful memory returned, and Mary Sue growled. She was STILL in bloody-blasted, triple-damned Mordor! The "kid" kicking her was in fact a hobbit, Frodo Baggins, now deep in the throes of a nightmare. Just beyond him, out like the proverbial light, lay Sam Gamgee. Both hobbits bore a suspicious resemblance to Death Warmed Over.  
  
Frodo moaned and stopped thrashing. He sank into something resembling peaceful sleep, rolling over and throwing his arm over Sam for comfort. Mary Sue swore softly. It was a shame to have to wake them, but there was no helping it. Mt. Doom was not about to come to them. Like Mohammed, they had to go to the mountain.  
  
"Yeah, that's right, Mary Sue. Go philosophical in Mordor, first thing in the morning. You're losing your mind, you know that?" the woman told herself. She cast a loathing-filled glance at the mountain before turning back to the hobbits.  
  
She watched them sleep for a bit, unwilling to wake them no matter how necessary. The poor things were completely wiped out, and they still had the worst part to go. It struck her as fundamentally unfair that such adorable little innocents should suffer so much bullshit. Come to think of it, thought, most good fiction was fundamentally unfair. Much like life itself.  
  
"Stupid Tolkien," Mary Sue muttered to no one in particular. She really didn't want to disturb the hobbits. Her mind searched frantically for an excuse, any excuse, not to. It settled on her bad hip. Last night she couldn't even stand on it. Today it didn't feel quite so bad. Perhaps some stretching would sort it out. Might unkink her back a bit, too. Sleeping on the ground was NOT all it's cracked up to be, especially for a woman who's idea of hardship while traveling was Motel 6.  
  
Mary Sue rolled to her stomach, away from the snoozing hobbits. She did a series of ground poses before pushing up to all fours. Her hip held. So far, so good.  
  
She stretched her way up to a standing pose, all her weight on her good leg. She shifted back onto the damaged leg, slowly putting weight on it. Lo and behold, the damn thing held. "Finally, something goes right in this dismal pit!" she mumbled.  
  
She shifted out of yoga and into walking around a bit. The hip was stiff and sore. It made a lovely clicking sound as she moved. She didn't like that one little bit, but she thought she just might be able to hobble to Doom. Maybe. If she was luckier than normal. In any event, she didn't have a whole helluva lot of choice, so being mobile was a definite plus.  
  
Injury attended to, another necessity of life demanded attention. That was no more fun now than it was before, and no more avoidable. Still, it provided another excuse to put off disturbing the hobbits. Besides, it could be worse. At least she was nowhere near that time of month. "Be thankful for small blessings, woman," she told herself as she prepared to go back.  
  
Sam was awake when she returned from her business. He was holding Frodo's head in his lap, stroking his hair and staring off towards Mt. Doom. The expression on his face was one of determination and love, mixed with a healthy dose of fear. Mary Sue was surprised. Yes, she'd read all about Sam's devotion to Frodo, but to actually see it in person was something else entirely. It took her breath away.  
  
She stood silently for some time, reluctant to intrude on this touching scene. Still, there truly was no alternative, so she approached them and softly called Sam's name. When the hobbit looked up, she said, "It's time to get moving. Please wake Frodo."  
  
For one second, Sam looked resentful. He opened his mouth to question Mary Sue's right to give orders. He also wanted to know where she'd gotten off to. But the urgency of the errand and his own hobbit sense stopped him. It truly didn't matter anymore who gave orders, nor where the human woman had gone. She was here now, and she had a valid point. It WAS time to recommence their journey.  
  
Sam stroked Frodo's face and gently called to him. When his master's eyes fluttered open, Sam said, "We must move now, Mr. Frodo."  
  
Frodo was slow in getting up. Even with Sam helping him, he moved like one in pain. Mary Sue wanted very much to carry him, but she was afraid her hip would give out, injuring them both. She settled for staying the hell out of Sam's way.  
  
Eventually, they were on the move once more. They made slow but steady progress, never stopping. All too soon, though, Mary Sue's injured hip began to throb, then ache. By the time noon came (or what she thought was noon, at any rate; it was hard to tell in Mordor), she was in agony. Each step brought a hiss and another swear. The hobbits were getting a full education in modern obscenity.  
  
As the pain grew worse, Mary Sue started limping. Even at the snail's pace they set for Frodo, she soon lagged behind. She did not pay attention to the hobbits, being lost in a haze of pain, stress and grim determination not to show weakness to the brave little halflings. By the time her pride allowed her to call a halt, Frodo and Sam were too far ahead to hear her.  
  
"Hell, they're too far ahead to be seen, let alone hear me!" Mary Sue bitched as she watched the dots that were the hobbits fade away. She sank down to the ground and indulged in a good cry.  
  
While Mary Sue was suffering for her hubris, two orcs watched from behind a conveniently-placed rock. The smaller turned to the taller and hissed, "She's lagged behind. Let's kill her already so we can get back to Headquarters."  
  
"You know we can't," the taller replied, rolling its eyes. "She hasn't wrecked the story yet. In fact, so far she's actively trying NOT to screw it up."  
  
The shorter one snorted. "Telling the hobbits not to talk about her! So what? Besides, isn't the water some sort of crime?"  
  
"A small one. Too small to bother with, really, since they lost it so soon," the other said.  
  
"What about telling them about the book? That's got to be a killing offence."  
  
"It would be if she'd told them how the story turned out, but she didn't, so it's not."  
  
"So why are we here, then, if not to kill Mary Sue?" the first one demanded.  
  
The second just shrugged. "Do I look like Upstairs to you?" it wanted to know.  
  
"All right, all right, you don't know any more than I do. Fine. Can we just kill her and get out of here? Mordor stinks," the bad-tempered one complained.  
  
The better-natured one rolled its eyes. "How many times do I have to explain this to you? You know we can't kill her until she messes up the canon."  
  
"So when does she do that?" the smaller one asked.  
  
"I don't know!! This fic isn't actually finished yet. For all I know, she never does break canon, and we were just sent here to get you out of Makes-Things hair!" the taller exclaimed.  
  
"Oh, that's just great! So what do we do now?" the blood-thirsty orc inquired.  
  
"Beats the……wait a minute!" the other orc exclaimed, a dangerous light coming into its eyes. "I have an idea. Let's recruit her."  
  
"RECRUIT HER?! What are you, nuts? She's a Mary Sue! She's even NAMED Mary Sue! She wanted to be Ringbearer a couple chapters back, godsdammit!"  
  
"So? She's not very Sue-ish, for a Sue. I say let's bring her back to Headquarters and let the SO deal with her."  
  
"Ringbearing isn't Sue enough for you?"  
  
"She didn't actually bear the Ring, just lust after it. Which is understandable."  
  
"Understandable?"  
  
The tall orc coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "Boromir". It wasn't above taking cheap shots at its partner.  
  
The shorter orc took a swing at the taller, exclaiming "That's not fair!"  
  
The taller orc ducked, expecting that reaction. "It is too, and you know it."  
  
The shorter orc threw up its hands. "Fine! We can't kill her, and now you want to recruit her. What do you propose? We waltz right up and say 'Hi, we're from the PPC and we want you?'"  
  
"More or less, yeah."  
  
The smaller orc just groaned. It knew better than to argue. "Fine, but you do it."  
  
"Works for me."  
  
The other orc suddenly realized something odd. "Hey, where did all the 'said', 'replied', 'groaned' and whatnot go?"  
  
"Beats me. File it away under 'Fanfic Paradox'."  
  
"That's not a real category!" the shorter orc protested.  
  
The tall one smirked. "Is now."  
  
"Upstairs will have something to say about that when we get back, you know," the first orc pointed out.  
  
The second brushed that off. "Who cares? We'll have a recruit, we'll be forgiven."  
  
"IF your plan actually works. She's crying now, she's pretty stressed, she might just snap. And Upstairs has enough of an insanity problem already without us bringing in pre-insane recruits," the small orc said.  
  
"It'll work, trust me," the tall one reassured.  
  
"Famous last words," the small one scoffed.  
  
"Hey, did you notice the statement taglines are back?" the cheerful orc commented.  
  
"Stop trying to change the subject. This is YOUR bright idea, YOU go talk to the Sue. I'm staying here and playing solitaire," the bad-tempered one announced.  
  
The taller orc hauled the smaller one up onto its feet. "Oh no you don't. You're coming with me, to back me up. Let's go talk to some Sue."  
  
"Stop mauling the movie quotes," the smaller orc protested as it followed the taller one to the no-longer-weeping woman.  
  
A/N, pt II---this was SUPPOSED to be the last chapter, but there's just a bit more to go. Honest. If anyone can't figure out by now who the mystery orcs are, I'll have to smack you with something blunt! 


	10. Grief, Gizmos, and Gollum (Who's Not As ...

Disclaimer---yes, yes, I know I'm expected to put some witty, self- depreciating crack in here about Tolkien's mastery and my not-so-humble idiocy, but honestly, how many of these do you think my feeble brain can come up with, anyway?? You all know who's the Boss of this world, and it ain't Springsteen!  
  
A/N--it's been real, it's been fun, but it hasn't been real fun. Actually, that's not true. This is the first fic I've put any effort into in a long, long time, and I've enjoyed every minute of it (ok, except maybe for the lack of reviews, which is slowly getting better, so I'll cease whining now). Mary Sue took a turn I wasn't expecting, but it turned out…….er…….um……that is……….it turned out in the end! Yeah, that's it.  
  
Grief, Gizmos, and Gollum (Who's Not As Dumb As He Looks)  
  
Mary Sue didn't waste too much time indulging her over-emotionalism. She knew it wouldn't get her anywhere but headachy, nor win her brownie points with the Fanfiction Powers That Be. Though in all honesty, she was none too thrilled with Them, either. In fact, she was entirely pissed at whatever unnatural force had ripped her from her nice, boring life and dropped her in Mordor, of all places. Still, she wasn't about to get home on her own, so angering divinity might not be a good idea.  
  
Neither was sitting on the ground, stressing out. Mary Sue took a deep breath and stood up. Then she got the shock of her life.  
  
Striding towards her from behind the omni-present rocks were a pair of orcs. Though both were taller than she, one was noticeably shorter than the other. "Fuck me," Mary Sue breathed. It was less an obscenity and more a twisted prayer.  
  
The taller orc turned to the shorter and said "She's got an even worse mouth than you do!"  
  
The shorter orc made an unhygienic suggestion to its partner, who laughed. "Oh, knock it off," the shorter orc said. "If you're going to talk to her, talk!"  
  
The larger orc smacked its forehead like it just remembered something. "Right, talk. Did I ever tell you monkeys have feet?" she began.  
  
"To the Sue, not to me!" the irritable orc exclaimed, turning the odd one to face Mary Sue.  
  
"Oh, right," it said again, its attention back where it belonged. "We're from the PPC, and we want you!" it continued dramatically, pointing its finger at Mary Sue like in the posters.  
  
Meanwhile, Mary Sue was doing her best impression of a deer caught in headlights. She stood there, bewildered and fearful, staring at the orcs. She got the distinct impression she'd wandered out of Mordor and into a Warner Brother's cartoon. She said the only thing she could think of. "The who in the what now?"  
  
"We're from the PPC , and we want to recruit you," the bigger orc said again, elaborating a little. Not enough, but a little.  
  
"Mary Sue division," the smaller of the pair added like it meant something.  
  
"Recruit me? What?" Mary Sue was having a hard time following the conversation. She was beginning to think she'd finally snapped. She wished desperately for that long-gone shot-and-a-half of tequila.  
  
"She's lost it. Let's kill her and go home," the surly orc dismissed.  
  
"Kill me?" Mary Sue squeaked. "What the hell for?"  
  
"For being a Mary Sue. Though you're not as Sue-ish as some, you're still killable" the surly orc said, knocking an arrow and raising its bow.  
  
The taller orc made its partner lower the bow. "We're not here to kill you," it reassured. "We're here to recruit you."  
  
"I repeat: Recruit me? Huh? You're orcs." Mary Sue was fond of stating the obvious, especially when confused.  
  
The orcs exchanged a disgusted glance. "Disguises," they said simultaneously. They both paused. "You explain," the shorter, surly orc said, folding its arms and frowning.  
  
"Right," the taller, insane one said, nodding. "We're from the.."  
  
"PPC, yes, you said that already. What the hell is the PPC?" Mary Sue interrupted. She'd been through this farce twice already. She had no intention of enduring it a third time.  
  
"Protectors of the Plot Continuum. We're part of the Mary Sue division. We're overworked, underpaid and desperately in need of recruits. Which is where you come in," the insane orc explained.  
  
Mary Sue just stared at it. "Protectors of the Plot Continuum? Mary Sue division? What the HELL are you on, anyway? And where can I get some?" she asked.  
  
The shorter of the two orcs could see this was going nowhere in a big hurry. It took over the discussion. "Protectors of the Plot Continuum roam through fanfiction, setting the errors straight. We, the Mary Sue Division, are licensed to kill off that loathsome creature known as Mary Sue," it explained with uncharacteristic patience.  
  
Mary Sue pursed her lips doubtfully. "I say again, since you apparently missed it last time….you're orcs."  
  
"Actually, we're not. We're normal humans," the taller orc began. The shorter snorted, but let its partner continue. "We're just in disguise, for the job. We're Protectors of the canon, we can't just go around screwing it up by appearing as ourselves."  
  
"So let me get this straight—you two are human, you're part of some Men-In-Black-esque outfit that wanders through fanfiction, killing off teenaged supergirls and setting the story straight? Is that it?" Mary Sue asked. The orcs nodded. "And now you want me to join this mess?" The orcs nodded again. "ARE YOU NUTS???" Mary Sue exploded.  
  
"She is," the shorter orc said, raising its bow again.  
  
Again its companion pushed the weapon down. The taller orc looked at Mary Sue. "Well, we're not nuts yet," ("You are," the surly one muttered unheeded) "but it's always a danger. So, do you want to?" it asked.  
  
"Do I want to?? Hell no!! All I want is to get the flying frig out of here and go home to my kid. I've already been gone all weekend, if I'm not home soon, he'll worry," Mary Sue replied.  
  
The taller orc pulled out some Star Trekian gadgetry and consulted it. "Actually, you've been here closer to four months, real time," it commented.  
  
"WHAT?!?!?!?!?!" Mary Sue screeched.  
  
The surly orc covered its ears. "You want to ease up on the excessive punctuation?"  
  
Mary Sue steamrolled right over the orc's complaint. "Whaddya mean, four months??? I've slept twice since coming here, that's three days, tops."  
  
The smaller orc grabbed the gizmo and double checked its display. "Nope, Jay's right, it's been nearly four months since this fic was first posted. I'd say your real life is shot by now," it said with a sadistic relish.  
  
Mary Sue would have swooned if she hadn't been so pissed. As it was, the only thing keeping her from throttling the orc was the possibility it may be a real orc, and kill her first. She clenched her fists repeatedly in an attempt to control her temper. She took a deep breath, let it out, took another one, and tried really hard to wrap her brain around this stupidity. "Let's say I DO join you. Is there any way you can get me back home, preferably three-and-a-half months ago?" she asked with remarkable restraint.  
  
The orcs looked at each other. "Maybe Makes-Things could come up with something?" the taller one suggested.  
  
"I don't know," the shorter said dubiously. "Makes-Things hasn't been too cooperative lately."  
  
"Well, if YOU hadn't…." the taller started.  
  
"There's no need to go there!" the shorter interrupted.  
  
By this time, Mary Sue was moving beyond pissed and baffled and into a mindless rage. "SHUT UP!!" she bellowed. Both orcs stared at her. "Now that I have your attention, who the hell is Makes-Things, and how can he help me get back to my kid?" she demanded.  
  
"Er…." The taller grunted.  
  
The smaller sighed. "Makes-Things is exactly what he sounds like, someone who makes things. He made all our equipment."  
  
"He's a genius," the taller added. "If anyone can get you back to reality, it's him."  
  
"And if I join your Mickey Mouse operation, he'll concoct something to get me home?" Mary Sue asked.  
  
"He might. He might not, but it's better than this, isn't it?" the better-natured orc pointed out. "Though I thought you'd be in the LOTR division, if you really want to work Disney, you can."  
  
"NO!" Mary Sue exclaimed in horror. "This is bad enough, thanks very much, without dealing with that Mouse!"  
  
"So, you'll come back to Headquarters with us, then?" the taller orc asked hopefully. The smaller had no comment.  
  
Mary Sue nodded reluctantly. "Doesn't seem I have much choice, does it? Go with you and possibly get back home, or stay here and get fried when Doom blows. Which oughta be any minute now, probably."  
  
The taller orc grinned. "Great! Let's go," it said, pulling out another gizmo.  
  
"Wait just a second! For one thing, I don't know your names! I can't call you Orc One and Orc Two," Mary Sue protested.  
  
"I'm Jay, and this is Acacia," the better-tempered orc introduced itself at last.  
  
"And for another thing, there is NO WAY I'm gonna endure everything I've gone through without seeing the end of the damn book personally!" Mary Sue continued on as if Jay hadn't said anything.  
  
Again, the orcs looked at each other. "What do you think?" the taller, Jay, asked.  
  
"I think it's a horrible idea. I thought this entire thing was a horrible idea, and I still do. But, you're gonna take her anyway, so I might as well go along and keep you out of trouble. Besides, I might still get the excuse to kill her," the smaller replied, glancing at Mary Sue.  
  
"Let's not start that again, dammit! Nobody's gonna kill her. We're just gonna pop in real quick, watch and then head home," the other replied, fiddling with the second gizmo.  
  
Mary Sue stared at Jay. "What are you doing?" she demanded.  
  
"I'm setting the portal to take us to the Cracks of Doom," Jay replied, ignoring Mary Sue's irritability. After all, she'd spent the last several days in Mordor, Jay was willing to cut some slack for that. Acacia wasn't, but Mary Sue wasn't being rude to Acacia. Not directly, at least.  
  
"That thing'll bring us to the end of the book?" Mary Sue asked in wonder. She was a hopeless gizmo freak, despite her tendency to break anything more complicated than a spoon. The gadgetry Jay and Acacia had was fascinating, and part of her decision to go with them was based on the hope she'd be able to play with those toys.  
  
Jay nodded just as the portal opened. "Onward to Doom!" she cried dramatically, gesturing for them to enter. Mary Sue stared at it with undisguised doubt. Acacia noticed the look, growled something undecipherable that was most likely anatomically impossible in bipeds, and stepped through the portal with a glare for Mary Sue.  
  
Jay looked at Mary Sue. "Go on, it won't hurt you, just move you. Go on, I'll be right behind you," she reassured.  
  
Mary Sue pursed her lips, but nodded and stepped through the portal. It was a strange sensation, taking one step and suddenly being elsewhere. That the "elsewhere" in question was the Cracks of Doom made it even stranger.  
  
Mary Sue looked around, noticed Acacia crouched behind yet another convenient rock. "I thought I got away from these rocks, dammit," Mary Sue muttered as she took her place next to Acacia.  
  
"What?" the orc (she still looked like an orc) asked.  
  
"Nothing," Mary Sue replied just as Jay stepped through and closed the portal.  
  
"Whatever," Acacia replied. "We've got some ground rules to set. First, the canon should be back to normal now that you're out of the story, so don't do anything to screw it up now!"  
  
Mary Sue bristled. "I wasn't screwing it up before, dammit!"  
  
Acacia opened her mouth but Jay interrupted. "Nobody said you did. Just keep it that way and we'll be fine. We can watch from here without affecting the story. You DO still want to see this personally, don't you?"  
  
"Well, yeah," Mary Sue replied. She settled down to witness the story in action. She looked around, taking in the scene.  
  
They'd arrived a bit too late for her taste. Frodo was already writhing around on the ground, clutching his hand as Sam hovered protectively over him. "Damn, we missed the good part!" she swore. Then she noticed something disturbing. She nudged Acacia. "Didn't you say the canon was restored now?" she asked  
  
"Yeah," Acacia replied.  
  
"Then why is Gollum legging it this way, instead of dancing off the cliff like he's supposed to?" Mary Sue wanted to know. She'd always wondered how Gollum could be so stupid as to do that anyway. Apparently, he wasn't as dumb as he looked.  
  
"WHAT?" Acacia exclaimed, looking where Mary Sue pointed. Sure enough, there was Gollum, running toward them like the proverbial bat out of hell. Acacia swore, and nudged Jay, who looked where she was pointing.  
  
"What the hell?" Jay asked unnecessarily. "This isn't right. What'd you do?" she accused Acacia.  
  
"I didn't do anything!" she protested.  
  
"Well, you'd better do something now," Mary Sue interrupted as Gollum came closer.  
  
"We can't," the orcs said in unison.  
  
"Why the hell not?? YOU'RE the so-called "Protectors of the Plot", ferchrissake!" Mary Sue demanded.  
  
"We're Mary Sue assassins, that's all. We're not supposed to touch the canon characters. Though we could still kill you and set the plot right that way," Acacia snarled.  
  
"No, that's all right. I'll handle this, dammit," Mary Sue snarled in return. She did NOT want to do this, but apparently the Cliché Powers That Be were DETERMINED to make her save the day, whether she wanted to or not. So Mary Sue thought fast, and launched a flying tackle at Gollum as soon as he was in range. Years playing football with her brothers had taught her the exact technique needed to take down a moving opponent, and she employed the skill to good use. Gollum went down under her tackle like the slimy rat he was.  
  
He kicked, clawed and bit, but again, Mary Sue's tomboy childhood helped her out. She bit, clawed and kicked back, until she worked her way up to wrap her hands around Gollum's throat.  
  
"I have just had the most miserable time of my life, you little worm, and now that I'm THIS CLOSE to getting home, you are NOT gonna fuck it up for me! You're supposed to be volcano bait, and volcano bait you will be!" she screamed as she fought with Gollum. He got many good shots in, but Mary Sue was too wrapped up in fury to feel them. She was intent on one thing and one thing only---tossing Gollum into the frigging volcano so she could get out of here and hopefully get home.  
  
Jay, Acacia, Frodo and Sam all watched the fight with varying degrees of disbelief. Frodo and Sam couldn't believe Mary Sue was alive, suddenly here, and fighting dirty with Gollum. Jay and Acacia couldn't believe she was risking her recruitment to interfere. Acacia was also growing excited at the possibility of getting to assassinate Mary Sue after all.  
  
Mary Sue couldn't have cared less. She was getting all her frustration and grief out by pummeling Gollum, and it felt great. She beat on him long after he'd curled up into a ball, wailing "Precious!"  
  
"Don't you "Precious" me, worm!! If it wasn't for YOU, you little asshole, I wouldn't be here!! I don't WANT to be here, never did, and it's ALL YOUR FAULT!! YOU WILL PAY!!!!" Mary Sue was in not a happy person.  
  
Jay turned to Acacia, who was rubbing her hands together in evil glee. "You're NOT going to kill her, not after we've recruited her! Besides, I'll bet you that unicorn skin she kicks his ass."  
  
"Bet it against what?" Acacia asked. Jay whispered in her ear. Acacia's eyes widened. "You're on," she said, settling back to watch.  
  
Meanwhile, Mary Sue had tightened her choke hold on Gollum, and was now dragging him kicking and screaming toward the edge of the Crack of Doom. "Right, in you go!" she yelled as she heaved him unceremoniously in. Unfortunately, Gollum shot an arm out and grabbed her by her shirt, dragging her in after him.  
  
"MARY SUE!" Frodo screamed thru his haze of pain. Sam merely gasped. Jay and Acacia, still hidden from the hobbits' view, also gasped. This was NOT what they were expecting.  
  
The mountain began to rumble ominously. "Master, we must go," Sam cried, hauling Frodo to his feet and dragging him towards the exit.  
  
"But…but," he babbled, gesturing toward the Crack.  
  
"There is nothing we can do now, Master. We must go!" Sam replied, dragging Frodo out of sight and back into the canon.  
  
Jay and Acacia looked at each other. "We should go now," Acacia said, uncharacteristically subdued.  
  
Jay gestured toward the rumbling Crack. "Shouldn't we check on her?" she asked.  
  
"We don't have time! This pit is gonna blow NOW! We've got to go," Acacia shouted over the growing din.  
  
Jay nodded and opened the portal.  
  
  
  
A/N---There is will be an epilogue to this, but I have a small problem. I can't decide how to end it. I have three different ideas in mind:  
  
The Happy Ending—Mary Sue wakes up in Real Life with her kid  
  
The "Does This Shit Never End??" Ending---Mary Sue is hauled out and joins the PPC  
  
The Tragic, Emotional Ending---Mary Sue fries in Mt Doom.  
  
So, help me out here, people! Which should it be? Oh, and for the cynically minded out there, this is surprisingly enough NOT one of my ploys for reviews. I've got all three endings written in my head, and I like them all equally. I honestly cannot choose myself. I need some input and opinions as to where to take this. Thanks in advance.  
  
GreyLadyBast 


	11. Obligatory Epilogue, or, Does This S*&$ ...

A/N-Ok, Loyal Readers, the votes are in and it's pretty much unanimous for the "Does This Shit Never End?" ending. I asked, you replied, you get what you ask for. And everyone but poor, beleaguered Mary Sue is happy.  
  
Disclaimer---now, dammit, I lost the blasted form for this! Crap on a crutch! Just assume anything you recognize and is good belongs to someone else (HarpWire or Tolkien or one of the other Powers That Be), and anything absurd, crappy, or excessively vulgar is my fault. Maybe I will bother with a proper disclaimer once I find that stupid form. Stinking paperwork......  
  
Obligatory Epilogue, or "Does This Shit Never End?!?!?!"  
  
Acacia was just about to step through the portal when Jay grabbed her arm. "Did you hear that?" Jay asked urgently.  
  
"Hear what?" Acacia wanted to know. "All I hear is the mountain."  
  
But Jay wasn't listening to Acacia. She had her head cocked and was staring off towards the Crack of Doom, obviously straining to hear something. Acacia poked her\ . "I said, 'hear what?'" she snarled. Acacia was not in one of her rare good moods.  
  
"There! That! I hear it again," Jay exclaimed. "It sounds like..swearing?"  
  
"Swearing?" Acacia asked dubiously. "I think you've been in Mordor too long."  
  
"No, I mean it. I hear swearing. And something else, too," Jay protested.  
  
Just then, they both heard a small, unmistakable cry for "HELP!", followed by a long string of vulgarity in at least three different languages.  
  
The Protectors stared stupidly at each other for far longer than they ought to have, given they were in the bowels of an about-to-explode volcano. It's not that they didn't know better (they most certainly did, they were trained professionals after all), it's just that Mary Sue's slow-thinking may have been contagious. Either that or the sacrilegious, scatological and sexually deviant suggestions they could hear mixed in with the cries for help had shocked them senseless. In any case, it took several seconds before Jay finally cried out "Mary Sue!" and dashed toward the edge of the Crack of Doom, Acacia hard on her heels.  
  
"What are you doing? There's no way she survived that plunge!" Acacia protested.  
  
Jay looked at Acacia. "Can you think of anyone else it could be?" she wanted to know.  
  
Acacia just sighed in reply. She got down on her stomach and peered over the edge of the Crack. Sure enough, clinging desperately to the side and swearing for all she's worth, was Mary Sue.  
  
Jay disturbed some pebbles as she joined Acacia. They pelted Mary Sue on the head, attracting her attention upward. "Get me the flying fuck out of here!" she shrieked. "I can't hang on!"  
  
Mary Sue's shirt was torn right across the Batman symbol, exposing a disturbing amount of flesh better left covered. She had her toes dug into some barely-there fissure in the cliffside, while her hands kept slipping on the tiny overhang she gripped. Beneath her, the lava of the crack boiled and writhed, rising steadily. All in all, it was a wonderful end to a terrific day.  
  
"Come ON!" Mary Sue bellowed as the Protectors hesitated. "My friggin' BOOTS are melting!"  
  
While Mary Sue was bitching, Jay was reaching down toward her. It was just a tiny bit too far. "I can't reach you," she shouted over the increasing din of the volcano.  
  
"Use your bow!" Mary Sue screamed.  
  
"What?" Jay shouted back.  
  
"She said something about your ho," Acacia said.  
  
"I am NOT a ho!" Jay protested.  
  
"NOT HO, BOW!! LOWER DOWN YOUR BOW SO I CAN GRAB IT!" Mary Sue bellowed. Her grip was slipping and panic had firmly set in. She couldn't remember how long Mt Doom took to blow according to Tolkien, but in her memories of the old Rankin/Bass cartoon it went up pretty damn fast. "I am NOT going to die here! I will NOT fry in the bowels of Mt Doom! Do you hear me?? I WILL NOT DIE HERE!!!!" she screamed at the cliff she clung to. Talking to the rocks had taken on a life of its own.  
  
Meanwhile, Jay unslung her bow. Acacia stared doubtfully down at Mary Sue. "I think she's really cracked this time. She didn't swear once in that," she commented.  
  
"Forget that. Just grab hold of my ankles. I have no intention of falling in," Jay replied, getting down on her belly to lower the bow to Mary Sue.  
  
"Whyever not?" Acacia asked with mock innocence. Jay just glared at her until Acacia sighed and grabbed her ankles.  
  
"Not so hard!" Jay protested.  
  
"You change your mind about falling in?" Acacia wanted to know.  
  
Again, Jay did not dignify that with a reply. She was busy lowering her unstrung bow. She lowered it just a bit too far, and it thunked Mary Sue on the top of her head.  
  
"What the.??" she spluttered, nearly losing her grip on the cliff. She looked up and saw Jay's orc face grinning madly above the bow. Curses changing to prayers, she grabbed ahold and clung for all she was worth. "I've got it! Pull me up!!"  
  
Jay heaved, Acacia heaved, and Mary Sue swore until she was up enough to scramble onto solid rock. Panting and wild-eyed, she turned to the Protectors. "Let's get the hell out of here before we fry!"  
  
Jay nodded. Acacia bristled; she didn't like anyone non-plant-based giving her orders. She didn't like the plant-based ones giving orders either, but she put up with it. Still, hanging around the Cracks of Doom while they heaved and threatened to explode didn't strike her as the best idea in the world, so she wordlessly opened the portal to Headquarters. "If you're coming, better move now," she snarled at Mary Sue.  
  
Jay just rolled her eyes and stepped through the portal. Mary Sue stared, gulped, glanced over her shoulder at the Crack, and leapt through after her. Acacia went last, closing the portal behind her.  
  
Mary Sue had been brought to PPC headquarters. What was the world coming too? 


End file.
